Two months had passed since Doekyom's departure and the confirmation of Baby Chocolat Paradise's participation in the Zurich Expo. Spring was blooming gently over Seoul, and Mirae's café had never been busier—or more alive.
Her team had expanded. Three new pastry assistants worked under her guidance, their eyes wide with admiration as Mirae sculpted delicate sugar ribbons or adjusted the temperature of the tempering machine to perfection. She was no longer just a chocolatier; she was a mentor, a leader.
But beneath the excitement lay an undercurrent of nerves. The Zurich Expo was now less than three weeks away.
One afternoon, she received an envelope bearing the official stamp of the Culinary Federation of Europe. Inside was the final itinerary and a hand-written note from Madame Brunner:
> "We've reserved the final showcase spot for you. End with brilliance, Kang Mirae."
Mirae sat in silence for a while, reading it over again. The final showcase was no ordinary slot—it meant prestige, high expectations, and all eyes on her. It was both an honor and a pressure cooker.
Later that day, she retreated into her personal kitchen space to begin sketching ideas. She wanted to create something that would not just wow with taste but tell a story—her story.
A concept began to form in her mind: "Journey of the Heart", a three-part chocolate tasting set. Each piece would represent a stage of her journey:
1. The Spark — A dark chocolate infused with yuzu and black tea, symbolizing her early passion.
2. The Storm — A smoky sea salt caramel encased in bittersweet couverture, to represent her struggles and setbacks.
3. The Bloom — A white chocolate ganache with floral notes of elderflower and lychee, to embody renewal and growth.
She could see it all in her mind—elegant plating, minimalist design, the emotions layered within each bite.
But something was missing. Not in flavor or form—but in presence.
That night, as she reviewed her recipe book, Mirae's eyes landed on the scrawled note Doekyom had left at the end of their shared chocolate list:
> "Let's keep making beautiful things."
She closed the book, took a breath, and whispered aloud, "Then let this be the most beautiful thing yet."
She returned to her workbench and started testing again, pushing boundaries, refusing to settle.
Because this time, it wasn't just about chocolate.
It was about telling the world who Kang Mirae had become.
The sound of tempering chocolate, the soft hiss of cream meeting hot sugar, and the rhythmic tap of Mirae's spatula against the marble counter filled the late-night air. The café was closed, the lights dim except in the kitchen, where she worked under the warm glow of pendant lamps. It was nearly midnight, but Mirae was wide awake—her hands steady, her mind focused.
The Zurich concept—"Journey of the Heart"—was almost complete. Two of the three pieces were flawless. The first, The Spark, was a dance of citrus brightness and deep dark chocolate, with a whisper of Darjeeling tea that lingered on the tongue. The second, The Storm, challenged the palate: bold, slightly bitter, with smoked salt drawing out intense emotion. Tasters described it as "unexpectedly moving."
But The Bloom, her final and most important piece, was proving elusive.
The white chocolate ganache base had the texture she wanted—silky and soft—but the flavor lacked depth. She had tried lychee and rose. Then jasmine and passionfruit. Nothing fully captured the emotion she needed. It had to be more than delicious; it had to mean something.
Frustrated but determined, Mirae stepped away from her station and walked toward the front of the café. The moonlight filtered through the windows, and on the shelf sat the silver box she had never opened since the day Doekyom left. She hadn't needed to. She remembered every word.
But tonight, she reached for it.
Inside, aside from the letter, was something else she had forgotten: a single preserved lavender flower, pressed between tissue.
It hit her.
Lavender. That was it.
Not just for its floral sweetness, but because it held memory. Of long evenings with Doekyom, of their early experiments, of the way he'd insisted lavender chocolate could work even when she'd doubted it. It was their first creative clash—and one of their best outcomes.
Back in the kitchen, Mirae began again.
She infused cream with culinary lavender, just enough to scent it—subtle, never overpowering. She added lychee, but this time just a hint, to round the edges. A few drops of honey. White chocolate ganache came together, floral, bright, emotional.
When she tasted it, Mirae closed her eyes.
It was like stepping into spring after a long winter. Gentle, hopeful, and undeniably hers.
The final piece was done.
She arranged the trio on a matte-black tasting slate: dark, gold, and white. Each one simple and elegant—no extra decoration, no distractions.
Just truth, in chocolate.
Mirae leaned back, breathing in the scent of lavender and melted cocoa. Zurich would be a stage. But this? This was her heart.
And it was finally ready to be shared with the world.